Forgetting to Remember
by PoshBosch
Summary: Clueless to the Drake's true nature, Lucy takes a trek out in Hel-Blar infested woods with her best friend at the worst part of the night. When a small group starts to attack, Lucy is vulnerable. An otherwise deadly blow to the head leaves her without any memory of who she was before. The one thing she does remember? Vampires. Then Lucy changes in ways they couldn't have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Drake Chronicles. Alyxandra Harvey does.**

Solange's POV

I could think of better ways to spend an evening than going out to our perpetual death. Like having my eyes poked out with chopsticks, that would be a million times better. But, this time, I couldn't stop the whirlwind my best friend ensured, and couldn't lie with enough glamour to persuade her to stay inside the confines of my family's farmhouse. I stood reluctantly by the door, hands stuffed in my pockets in a general sign that I was out of my comfort zone. Lucy clambered about beside me, shouldering herself into a thick coat and pulling a knitted hat over her ears. Excitement zapped off her in energised waves only to be shot down by the cloud of darkness I was radiating.

"Oh, come on, Solange," she gushed. "It'll be fun, I promise."

There was no point in trying to persuade her to stay in. I'd have more success in force feeding her tofu - the food that was the spawn of her existence - than convince her that danger lurked in the forest surrounding us on all sides. I wished my brothers would come down from the third floor and stop her.

She just thought that my seven brothers were overprotective because I was their little sister. And they were, to some degree. She didn't know that the reason they hung on me like overeager shadows was because I was the first female vampire born, not initiated in over nine hundred years, and that I was in the running to be the next vampire queen.

It wasn't like I had a choice, anyway. Ancient prophecy ensured it. Vampire tribes were savage at the best of times, preferring lethal battle strategy and sword fighting to politics and etiquette. There was only one person that would want to be at the centre of that storm – Lady Natasha, and she was mad. She was in love with Leander Montmartre which just further proved the fact. Lady Natasha wasn't too happy that Montmartre was after me to be his queen. I hoped I'd never meet any of them, but hoped I'd never meet one of his rogues more.

The most savage and bloodthirsty of all his creations, the Hel-blar were a force to be reasoned with. They were blue skinned, foul smelling things that, most of the time, couldn't think past their craving for fresh blood to hold a conversation. 'The kiss', their bite, was infectious even without any blood being exchanged, and could turn even the most resistant vampire into a crazy-eyed beast in minutes.

Montmartre had accidentally released a wave of them around Violet Hill. They were out of his control and roamed with no guidance whatsoever. He preferred to stay the hell away from them, protected by his Host, hated by the Hounds, which were both his creations.

It wasn't our mess to clean up but somehow it had become something we had to solve alone.

Sadly, something we weren't doing very well.

That was why I put up a fight whenever I could. Lucy didn't know what came out at night so it was up to me to protect her any way possible. I wasn't doing a good job with that, either, but I really couldn't do any more that I already was.

Somehow, Lucy had made her way out and stood lonely on the driveway, facing me with impatience. "Do you want me to drag you?"

If I just managed to stall her for a few minutes, would my brothers come down to see why I hadn't joined them? No, nothing interrupted their movie night. That had been why Lucy had picked tonight out of all nights, and, coincidentally, the most dangerous part – when the moon hung over us, watching us make the most tremendously stupid mistake of our lives.

Reluctantly, I shuffled out. I would save myself the humiliation of being carried even if it meant I'd get in so much trouble for it in the long run.

"Good," she approved.

Warm fingers grabbed my cold ones. They weren't vampire cold but they were getting there, and it had nothing to do with the chill festering in the air.

"Gosh, Solange, you need to wear a sweater."

"Yeah." I almost hiccoughed out of unease. Albeit minor, that was where the lying begun. "I just always forget, that's all. You know me: complete ditz."

Gravel became hard packed earth as we entered the borders of the forest. Darkness spread its poisonous breath over every surface. Trees loomed over us, tall and unforgiving. Unlike in the early hours of morning, their press didn't give me peace, but a hard sense of danger, nipping on my heels but never coming any closer. And it wasn't just the quiet rustling of leaves that had sweat forming on my upper lip, it was the chance of getting swarmed. I had my stakes but that didn't feel like much of a defence.

Lucy led the way, stomping over the feathery fingers of ferns and sharp twigs. The noise ricocheted, alerting any living thing in a hundred mile radius that we were in the area.

I winced. "Will you try to be quiet?!"

Lucy looked back at me over her shoulder. "Why?"

Oh, ever the innocent. Sometimes I envied it. "Because—because…" I spluttered, coming up empty. My mind was going slow, fogged by undiluted fear.

"What, because I'll scare some rabbit into hiding?" Lucy laughed. "Sometimes I think you're more of a vegetarian than me."

"I am, Lucy. Let us not forget the time your parents were out of town and you ate sausages everyday for breakfast." The crack being to hard to resist, I smiled, but then the illusion was foiled and I remembered. "We need to get back."

My mind made another desperate play, one my mouth didn't recognise until it was out there for the world to hear. "I-I'm afraid of the dark."

Instantly, I mentally slap myself, a string of curses following. Could I have come up with a worse exuse?

Lucy didn't look convinced. She stopped us, pulling me down to sit on a fallen trunk. Fury green moss grew on the rotting bark. "Since when?" She challenged, expectancy making her voice harder than usual.

"Since always."

No, you're not." Lucy's brow furrowed as she repeated the words to herself. "Solange, you're not afraid of the dark."

"I am," I insisted.

A quick look around revealed no immediate danger but I still didn't feel like hanging around. The wind picked up, blowing my choppy fringe into my eyes and ruining Lucy's brown bob. It brought new scents into play, animating the forest in a haunting dance. Lucy didn't seem to notice, to absorbing in inspecting an answer. I would have told her not to bother, but I froze. Mildew and pond water ate up the last of the breathable air. I gagged, sprang off the tree so fast Lucy almost fell backward into a deep layer of mud.

The worst had happened, after all.

Hel-Blar.

I reached down and pulled a sharpened stake from my boot. Lucy, regaining her balance, leaped up. My mind was already forming battle strategy, mechanically running through all the martial arts I knew. The best way for me to deal with the resulting consequences the night would bring - which was that the attacking party would become dust – was to think about them not as people but as monsters. A menace. Which they were, if I thought about it. Still, I'd never leant to accept what I did to protect the people that were important to me. It felt too much like murder for me to walk hand in hand with it.

"What's that?" Lucy asked, disbelief making the pitch of her voice rise a few octaves.

I barely glanced at her, deciding silence was the best way to swing. Tracking sounds required concentration and if half of it was wasted on answering my best friend's questions then I might miss something vital. And anyway, who was I fooling? Certainly not myself. Certainly not Lucy after what she was about to witness. The lid covering up our species was about to blow for one unfortunate human, and it would take away her naivety. There was still a chance that Lucy would play it off as a drunken redneck but that chance was small considering she was relatively smart.

A hazel thicket shuddered. I tensed and held onto the stake tighter, knuckles strained. Fear was real, biting at my logic and the languidness of my movements.

A blue mess erupted from between two trees, jumping out of the darkness. Saliva dripped of a mouth of needle sharp teeth. Lucy gasped but that was all she had time for. The scream I could see building up in her lungs was cut short when I shoved her behind me. I kicked out when the Hel-Blar was close enough. It barely moved, all brawn and muscle under the rusty smell of dried blood.

"What are you doing, Solange?"

I grunted in reply, barely dodged a punch to the jaw. A kick swung to my mid-section. It hit me full force and I staggered, fell hard, leaving a frightfully clear path to Lucy. The Hel-Blar snarled, driven crazy by so much fresh blood. It dragged itself over to her, clacking its jaw. The sickly smell of Lucy's fear coiled into the air.

"Solange?!" Lucy's voice dragged on in fear as she stumbled back a step.

Before I could get to my feet the Hel-blar reached her, leaning over her throat painfully slow, saliva dripping onto her exposed throat. No, this couldn't be happening. No. It held her still, sharp nails digging into wrists. She struggled, screamed. And I couldn't help her, to far away to reach her with my slow movements.

Teeth closed the gap. But they didn't pierce skin, didn't draw blood.

A wet thud closed over the forest.

Lucy's limp body fell to the floor. Blood dribbled onto dried leaves. Glassy eyes connected with mine, consciousness completely gone.

**I know the next few chapters will defiantly be bad but don't worry. I will, in time, update them so that they're better. **

**So do you like this edit? **

**I hope so!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just so I you know, Lucy didn't know vampires existed in the last chapter. By getting hit on the head, she forgot everything normal she ever knew about the Drakes and just somehow gained the knowledge that vampires and everything associated with the vampire world existed, and that The Drake's were vampires too. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Drake Chronicles. Alyxandra Harvey, a brilliant author, does. **

Lucy's POV

There was something about the quality of a vampire's silence that had the hairs on my neck standing on end, even in my sleep. I couldn't necessarily see them, but I knew at least one was pacing. It sounded like the flutter of bats wings. As expected, being in a room with at least two vampires made me uneasy, especially when I couldn't remember how I'd ended up where I was. On top of the initial bubble of terror, my head spun. It felt groggy, and I was certain, if I had enough energy to lift my hand, I would feel a bump.

The unnatural silence was broken when a loud smack echoed through the room. Instinct told me to keep perfectly still. I peaked out through one eye, keeping it barely open to not let them know I was awake and listening. Though my fringe of lashes I saw a whole clan of ill-tempered vampires, crowded around a small coffee table in front of a two sofas stood opposite each other. I lay on one, eavesdropping. The other was empty. Their faces were grey. Worry lines made them look old, but really most of them looked to be in their late teens. Storms brewed in pale eyes, lightening flashing through a closed fist connecting with the table.

"You said you'd keep her safe, Liam." A man with wolf and turtle tattoos spoke, ponytail swinging like a coiled whip. He was human. A vein angrily pulsed in a neck clean of bite marks. I wondered what a human was doing vulnerable in a house full of vampires with polished skin. It looked as if he hadn't been fed from. That didn't make me feel better.

"I know." The other man – Liam – replied grimly. He was defiantly vampire, held steady and strong with a grace that could only be done by the dead.

A dark cloud of unconsciousness threatened again. The combined weight of night and injury made me sleepy. I had to resist a yawn and sinking back into the sofa. The soft glow of ruby encrusted tiffany lamps kept the darkness from overtaking the house, alongside a small fire crackling in the heath. I guessed that was mostly for the humans' benefit. Vampires rarely got cold, and when they did it was barely a shiver. That made me feel better. At least they were hosts that didn't want their guests to be uncomfortable. Or was it just a front designed to lull the victim into a false sense of security?

There was a faintly coloured tint to the light. One girl – not a vampire but close to being one by how old she was - had sleek black hair, and the light made it almost glow blue. Her tears glimmered like quartz stones hidden in a mountain side. She sagged as she sobbed, like all the air leaving a balloon. "I'm sorry," she said hopelessly. "It was my fault. I should've lied better."

Liam looked at her. "It wasn't your fault, sweetie. It was mine. I should have told her the truth."

"What are we going to do?" The question was directed to the whole room, spoken by a boy with eyes the misty grey of rain. His hair was tousled, eyes troubled.

"Wait for her to wake up, Nicholas." A boy wearing a frock coat and tight fitting leather trousers answered the question. He put a calming hand on Nicholas's shoulder, lace cuffs fluttering.

He didn't look particularly effected by the gesture. "And when will that be?"

Was it time to make my presence known? They seemed nice enough, hadn't gone for the mans' jugular. It didn't seem as if I was going to milk any more information from them. It was clear that the person they were talking about was me, unless they had somebody else here, but that seemed unlikely. Everything else was just useless riddles. Snippets of information that I couldn't trust nor decipher.

I whimpered, curled tighter into myself. My throat felt too chalky and dry for speech, and the sound seemed to fit how I was feeling.

Even with my eyes now closed, I could see the sharp silence as if it were a visible thing. It was broken only by the loud breathing of the human man. I heard soft footfalls approaching. A calloused hand touched my shoulder tentatively.

"Lucky Moon?"

What the hell did those words mean? How could the moon, an inanimate object, be in any way lucky?

I opened my eyes again, wider this time. The light from the fire danced across his face, elongating the shadow of his prominent nose. His hair was sprinkled with grey. Wise, aging lines crinkled his eyes when he smiled at me. "How are you feeling?" He asked gently.

This man looked at me like he knew me. Like I was somehow important to him, though I didn't recognise him for anywhere. I was sure I'd remember such a kind, fatherly face.

"Um, fine," I croaked out shyly. I wasn't a shy person, but the warmth and naked relief in his eyes looked all too real. "What's Lucky Moon?"

He blanked. Stiffly, he turned on his heel to Liam. They exchanged glances. The girl sniffled, cocked her head to the side like a curious bird.

The man turned back to me. Fear burned in his eyes, running untamed like wild horses. "You. You're Lucky Moon."

My bow furrowed. "I am?" When he nodded, I started to worry. And then a deep cavern opened up in the bottom of my stomach, sucking calm away into the deep pits of oblivion. I worried more. The terror came back, hitting me with so much force I almost fell onto the back cushions of the sofa. I couldn't remember. Not just what this man had told me, but anything. When I delved into my mind, it came back empty, a deep foggy wipe of things I'd once known. It was like I'd hit a wall in my own subconscious and I was powerless to get around it. The first memory I had was a few minutes ago, when I'd opened my eyes to a room full of shifty vampires. However much I tried, I couldn't remember yesterday.

The terror gave way to shock. It was numbing and I was thankful. I didn't want to feel the panic or the grief.

"Yes, you are."

The man took my hand. I wanted to pull away from the warmth, but I could hardly feel the limp rubber hoses attached to my shoulders. The others stood still behind him, staring at me like I was a historical exhibit.

"W-Who are you?" I whispered, broken.

He gripped my hand even tighter. "Your father, Stuart Hamilton."

The words killed me. This man, with his tightly inked arms and cheerful ponytail, claimed he was my father. A tear slipped out, making a run for it down my cheek. He must have seen some kind of uncertainty in my face, because he fumbled around in his pocket and came back with a leather wallet. He showed me a photo tucked safely inside; it was of a girl with dark rimmed glasses and a short brown bob, wearing a beaded scarf.

The heavy sunlight caught the sequins, and they glimmered. He was there to, standing close, head bent slightly to look down to me, smiling a tight smile.

I gripped it like my life depended on it. The edges creased around my fingers. "Is this me?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh, my baby girl." Stuart's arms wrapped around me in a desperate hug. I tensed, uncomfortable, and then gave a hesitant attempt at returning it. "You don't remember anything?"

"No," I lied. I remembered vampires and I wasn't sure if I should say. Did Stuart – my farther – know they existed?

"Are you sure?" He'd buried his face in my hair so his voice was muffled.

"…Yes."

Alerted by my pause, Stuart lifted himself up to look into my face. Liam shifted. A lady with fierce eyes and a long black braid stared, grip tightening on the arm of an impressive velvet armchair – their mother? She'd been so still I hadn't noticed her until now. Lace cuffs raised an eyebrow, looking on hopefully. The rest inhaled, the sound of air working into unused lungs was weird.

"You've got to tell us what you remember, Lucy," said an older boy wearing oil stains on his hands as if they were part of his skin.

I recognised that. Lucy was a common name. He'd called me Lucy, when Stuart had called me Lucky. Either it was an honest mistake or things really weren't adding up and they were lying to me, taking advantage of the fact that I didn't know anything anymore to spin an elaborate plot. The reasons yet were unknown, but they wanted me to do their bidding? That still didn't explain the photograph in his wallet.

"I thought Stuart." Stuart winced when I said his name instead of calling him dad. Apart from the fact that he may just be using me, I couldn't remember him, so felt a bit uncomfortable to call him anything other than what I knew for certain. I'd seen his name in his wallet. "Said my name was 'Lucky'."

Nicholas winced, looked briefly pained. "Your real name is Lucky, but you prefer to be called Lucy. Only your parents call you Lucky—well, I do, but only because it annoys you so much."

"Why would you want to annoy me?" I asked, confused.

He pondered that. The others looked at him, except Stuart who didn't look away from me. "We have a strange relationship," he admitted at last.

"Oh." Then I laughed. It sounded shaky. "I can imagine. What with you being vampires and all." When I realised what I'd said, I clamped my hand over my mouth. My upper hand was gone.

Their mother whipped her head around so fast it blurred. She stared into my soul, digging up all the information I knew about their race. I squirmed as Nicholas's eyes narrowed in the direction of the younger girl, tear tracks now dried on her cheeks. Two boys with the same face, one with long hair one with short, both blinked at me.

"You told her?" Nicholas growled in the girl's direction. "I thought we promised—"

"I didn't tell!" Her eyes were fierce but her voice shrill, a fresh wave of tears brimming, turning the whites of her eyes faintly red.

"Then how does she know?!"

"It's the one thing I remember," I interrupted.

"How can you 'remember' if we never told you?" Asked the longer haired twin.

The interrogation lasted a full hour, barely stopping to let me answer. They weight of everything was heavy on my shoulders. I learnt their names, their traits. They explained to me how I'd come to be this way, what I was doing and how I normally acted. They said I liked beaded scarves and to punch people in the nose. And to always have the upper hand, and that I always seemed to jump headfirst into trouble. I re4ally didn't know how they put up with me; I sounded like a nightmare. I learnt that Solange was my best friend, and that the Drake's, as they called themselves, were like my brothers. It was a lot to take in, and I was left feeling exhausted. Sometime during the questioning, Stuart had run home to my mother, and said that he'd pray for me with her,

Comforting silence hung between me and the Drake brother's. I didn't necessarily trust them, but I had nowhere else to go. I yawned.

"Want to go to bed?" Asked Nicholas from the sofa opposite. He'd been quiet, thinking with a small crease between his eyebrows.

The rest of the brood milled around. I could tell they were trying not to cluster me, give me space until I got used to them. I couldn't shrug of the worried glances and pitying looks, however much I tried. Solange sat in the kitchen on a thick-backed ladder-back chair, black hair falling over her shoulders. The air around her was dark.

I stared at her for a long, hard moment, thinking of all the lost memories we'd shared. "Yeah, I'd like to go to bed, please, Nicholas."

He smiled crookedly. "I don't think I'll ever get used to you being polite to me."

He escorted me upstairs to the second floor, down a long carpeted hallway. We stopped outside one of the plain wooden door. "Your bedroom."

The walls were a cool turquoise, the floor comforting faded floorboards. Antique wood made up most of the furniture, an eight armed elephant god stood on the bedside table. A hand-made crocheted quilt was thrown over the bed, half made. Glass door-knobs were fixed on the wall, holding pounds of silver and green jewellery.

"This is… mine?" I asked, uncertain.

Nicholas nodded, looked around curiously. "Yep, this is yours. Do you still like it?"

"I'm not quite sure."

Soon after, Nicholas left me alone. I hung around for a bit, staring at a young birch sapling growing outside my window from the window seat, feeling awkward. It felt like a strangers room, not my own.

It got darker outside, the stars as thick as spilled salt. I closed my window when it got to cold to keep it open, sat down against the frame of the bed, and thought.

I stayed like that for a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Drake Chronicles. Alyxandra Harvey does. **

Lucy's POV

I was sat by myself, backed up against the old trunk of my favourite willow. I was doing that a lot lately; I needed the solitude to think. It was hot, the grass under my bare feet sweltering and turning faintly brown because the heat wave hadn't broken. It'd started a little over a week ago, the very morning I'd moved back in with Cass and Stuart. There hadn't been any suggestion of rain since then. The sky had remained a baron blue with no clouds in sight. Morning sun filtered through the wispy leaves of the willows, their branches trailing idly in the yellow Colts Foot. The edges of the petals were turning crisp and curling inward. Their stems were tilting, leaves wilting. They looked sad.

A lot like I was feeling.

I wasn't doing well; the memories didn't return and I didn't remember anything about anybody. They remained, to me, friendly strangers. Their presence, when they weren't off alone talking about me, instead of making me feel secure like it was supposed to, made me feel sick, like I had some strange exotic disease. They treated me as if I was going to break, never mind that I really did feel as if I was just barely holding myself together. I don't think I was fooling any of them, though, as they locked the door on me more often than not lately.

And all of this was even before the dream started.

It just added a whole lot more to my already overloaded plate. It was, mainly, the reason I came out to the bottom of the garden in the middle of the night – to clear my head.

I'd been sitting grimly, chin pressed against my knees, staring at the bench opposite that I could never bring myself to sit on, since the early hours. My pyjamas were damp with humidity. My hair stuck to the back of my neck like an uncomfortable second skin.

My parents had learnt to not interfere with my habits. They'd stopped bringing mugs of Chamomile and homemade oat biscuits when I'd stopped eating them. Their concern for their only daughter grew, as did the everlasting anguish that never seemed to falter whenever I was around people.

Knowing that they had lives to be lived and memories to be thought of felt like a stone was constantly being dug into my chest. No matter that they might have been sad or depressing, or that maybe none of them had ever lived an ounce in their lives, at least they had something. It was irrational to be so angry at my family, the Drake's, random people I passed on the street, but I couldn't stop it from surfacing, couldn't stop myself from falling deeper into the empty space inside my head. I couldn't stop myself from building shields.

They didn't block the world completely but they stopped most of it. It was enough to keep me presentable on the outside. To anyone, I looked, undoubtedly, how I did before. But I couldn't always keep the raging storm on the inside. It had to be unleashed eventually or I'd go insane.

The shields were getting stronger. I could go longer without having to hit something, or scream, or just go mental on the world.

But I was drifting away. I was the one viewing my life separately from everybody else behind the glass screen while the others laughed and joked with something sitting in my place. It looked like me but I was damn sure it wasn't who I was.

I closed my eyes tight, scrunched them up so I wouldn't see the sun at all. It was all too much for me to feel at once. I couldn't contain it.

"Lucky?" The light, lilting voice cut through my outer bubble of grim depression and floated around the willows. Outside the wall of branches, the water of the pond glimmered. It all seemed so distant, a separate world.

Cass's hand pushed through the curtain and pulled several branches aside. I could tell right from the start that she had a special connection with nature. I'd caught her, when I was feeling special enough to be social, talking to these very trees, patting the pumpkins on the other side of the house. The harvest, she assured me, was always plentiful if you were gentle.

Cass crouched beside me, quartz ring flashing. Her eyes were naturally caring, happy, her hair shorter than Stuarts and tied in the same loose ponytail. There were deep lines around her mouth and eyes that weren't there a week ago.

"Are you OK, sweetheart? Do you want to come inside?"

"No," I mumbled, tucking myself further into the trunk behind me. The bark bit through my thin tank top, into my skin. "I'm fine."

She sighed quietly. "Are you sure? Your dad's made breakfast."

I could see the hope in her eyes. It was embarrassing and hard for me to look at. It reminded me of a helpless puppy drowning. The innocence and fear, waiting to be rescued from the danger by the hero of a daughter, showing her that I could be normal. Plus, I was kind of hungry. I'd spent the duration of dinner (that was, unfortunately, some weird tofu casserole. It was disgusting) in my room.

I tried a smile but I was sure it came out as more of a grimace. "Alright."

We walked inside. The kitchen was small, decorated with clippings of blossoms and other pesticide free home grown flowers. An old table stood on rickety legs in the centre. Stuart was sat on one of the chairs, the morning newspaper held between his thumbs, a cup of coffee that I was sure was freshly ground beside his elbow.

He looked up as he heard the door click open. Cass and Stuart greeted as Cass scattered herself over the kitchen to gather breakfast. I wanted to sit but didn't feel like going close to people in case they tried to force conversation out of me. I was assured when I'd had my confrontation with the Drake's that I was constantly loud and chatty. I sure didn't feel like that now.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? You look lost." Stuart's eyes swept over me, parental concern flashing.

I kept myself from squirming. Barely. "Yes."

I'd learnt to keep my answers short and clipped. That way, it sounded less like I was lying.

"Do you want to sit, then?"

The floor and my bare feet were suddenly fascinating. It was easier to look at than Stuart's face. "No."

There was a clatter as Cass fetched plates and cutlery. Stuart set down his paper at his other elbow, shoved his coffee out of the way to make room for the steaming bowl of something hot. It smelled heavenly and almost had me down on the chair, shovelling it into my face.

Cass held out the bowl to me enticingly. "Breakfast is served," she said hopefully, a small smile setting on her face.

After a moment of hesitation, my growling stomach won over the black hole that'd opened up in the pit of my stomach. We all ate breakfast silently, the clanging of our spoons the only sound over morning birdsong.

"I've been thinking," I said a while later. The bowls were long empty, a small jug of chamomile tea sitting in their place. "I'm ready to get started again."

Cass looked up from her mug. "What do you mean, Lucky?"

"Well…" I told myself to breathe my words so I wouldn't chicken out or get sidetracked. "I mean, I want to do what I did before, like, school."

"School?" Stuart asked from the seat beside Cass. "You shouldn't try to hurry yourself. Are you really positive that you're ready—?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's not going to help me get better if I just sit around all day and do nothing. How am I ever going remember if I don't see the people that my memories are centred around?"

They stayed silent, but looked liked they wanted to argue. I hurried on before they could interrupt. "I think it'll help me if I try to stick to the routine I had before. Maybe that'll unlock and fill the space in my head... You want that for me, don't you?"

It was playing dirty. I knew that, but, frankly, I didn't have a choice. My mind was rotting in the storm. And it was a way to ensure they'd agree. If they didn't, they'd be lying, and that'd go against everything they valued as parents.

Stuart suddenly looked uncertain, like something he'd believed in all his life had turned out to be a lie. A bit like finding out that fairytale creatures didn't exist. I couldn't be sure, of course, but that was what I'd pegged it closest too.

"… Yes." Cass answered. "We want the best for you."

"So—?"

"But I don't think you're ready."

Anger flared in my chest. "How do you know if I'm ready or not?"

"I see you," she answered, somewhat apologetically. "You're struggling. School would just be too hard."

"You don't know that," I said stubbornly. "And if I'm struggling, wouldn't support help me? You can't deny that it wouldn't."

I smiled triumphantly when she didn't return with a comeback. Stuart brought his cup to his lips. His movements were too strained and precise for the relaxed look in his eye. I almost winced; I hadn't wanted to start an argument, but it'd turned into one.

My hole was already too deep to jump out of, so I might as well just keep digging. "See, you can't deny it."

"Honey, please," she begged. She tried to reach for my hand but I pulled it away so it was resting clenched on my lap. "Stuart, tell her."

Eyes gentle, he looked at her, took her hand firmly in his. "I can't tell her what to do, Cass. Didn't we always say we wouldn't hold our kids back from what they wanted?"

I felt a lot more for the calm man in front of me and smiled at him gratefully. Betrayed, Cass loosened her grip on Stuart's hand. My toes curled until they cramped. It suddenly occurred to me I was ripping up their relationship. When the week had started, they'd been inseparable, hanging off each other for support. Now they were sitting stiffly, the air crackling sharply in the divide between them. I kind of wanted to drop the issue before they started fighting for real, something I'd been assured had never happened. If I carried on shooting off my mouth, something was going to get thrown. Preferably at my head so I'd shut up forever.

I bit my lip. "Look, we can talk about this later. It doesn't need to be discussed now—"

They both ignored me, my words to weak to penetrate the charged air around them. I was kind of surprised lightning didn't strike.

"This is a matter of our child's _health_, Stuart! Take that into consideration, will you?"

"I am," he said, his voice defensive. I stared at them, horrified. The ugly monster I'd created was eating them alive. "That is why I'm saying she needs some sense of normality in her life. Being with her extended family, The Drake's, her friends,_ is_ her normality."

"But…" Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. One slipped down her cheek.

Stuart noticed straight away, flustering to swat it away with a soft flick of his finger. "Don't cry, my love, please, don't cry."

Her head collapsed into her hands. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, tears ran between the gaps in her fingers like money falling into a well, hard and glittering in the light. My eyes widened when the sounds of her sobs reached my ears. I'd made her cry with the shire ignorance of my words. I felt absolutely wretched, my anger high plummeting until I wasn't even sure what it'd felt like. Ravens could come and peck out my eyes and I'd be thankful for the punishment.

"Mum!" I called, desperate.

She peeked out through a small gap between her fingers, looking small and shy and helpless. She sniffed.

"I just want what's best for you," she said.

I nodded. "I know," I said grimly. My hands returned to the top of the table. "But maybe school's what's best for me."

She sighed in just the right way that I'd new I'd gotten some result. That didn't mean I didn't feel bad for it, though. "I still think you'd be better at home."

"I know."

"I'm your mother, sweetheart, and that means I _will_ try to change your mind."

"I know."

She dried her tears and, when she turned her head up to face me again, she looked determined. She smiled at me.

I couldn't help but return it.

~o0o~

I couldn't seem to conjure the same smile – any smile – when Stuart dropped me off at Violet Hill High School. He insisted that I wasn't aloud to drive until I redid my test, even though I did remember how to drive perfectly fine. Until then, my old car was to be left alone.

I was early. So early, in fact, that Stuart's car was the only in the car park until he pulled away, disappearing behind the trees of the forest opposite so slow he was barely moving. I felt he was only doing that to keep an eye on me.

There was a girl with me, stood beside me with a satchel, strap clutched to her chest. I'd been told that it was Linnet, a girl I had absolutely no recollection of. Apparently, we'd spent most of our time together at school when I wasn't with the Drake's. She seemed nice enough, if a bit shy. She hadn't spoken much since we'd stepped out of Stuart's car.

"You say we're waiting for Nathan?" I asked. I kept my eyes straight ahead, locked on the huge cinderblock building sloping up from the end of the car park.

She nodded but it seemed like more of a nervous tremor. The satchel strap strained in her white knuckled grasp. She also hadn't made proper eye contact, and stood rigid a few feet away, like she thought that if she came any closer I'd combust right in her face.

I shot her a look. "You afraid I've got a contagious disease or something?"

"No, just…"

I clenched my teeth, my eyebrows rising into my hairline. I wasn't made of china, dammit! "Just what?"

A boy ran up to us before she could answer, tripping over his feet on the way and stumbling right into Linnet. After they'd pulled themselves up, Linnet scowled, a blush of embarrassment staining her dark cheeks.

"Nathan," she complained, smoothing down her hair. Her blue eyes glimmered. "You made me cut my hand."

"Sorry." I liked Nathan – his smile hadn't faltered once. When Linnet's scowl deepened, he chuckled. "Someone's got up on the wrong side of her bed this morning."

Linnet shot me a quick look out of the corner of her eye. This time, I was the one scowling. "Lucy's back."

He looked at me. "I know," he said cheerfully. "You only just noticed?"

Nathan walked to me and engulfed me in a huge bear hug. My feet dangled just up from the safety of the tarmac of the car park. He hugged me so tight to him that my lungs constricted. I desperately wanted to jab him in the throat so he'd put me down. It was only a reflex, but I had to actually stop my hand from doing anything more than a twitch. I didn't want to upset him. Unlike Linnet, Nathan seemed like a person that I'd naturally find comfortable company with.

This was almost like a life reset. It'd be like the first day of school all over again. I had no idea what I was in for but I had a feeling Nathan would stick by me.

He put me down. "Hey, Luce!"

"... Hello."

His face fell a fraction but his smile stayed immaculate. "You… don't remember me?"

"No," I said, feeling small. I'd made him sad. Some part of me knew that Nathan was sad very rarely. "Linnet, as well."

Linnet shuffled further to Nathan. I felt like I had the plague for all she was avoiding me.

Nathan put a calloused hand on my arm. I looked up at him through my lashes and his eyes glimmered. "There are always new memories to be made."

When students clustered the car park and Linnet's incessant whining about her hand – which was bleeding – had become to much, we made our way inside. The two of them had glued themselves to my sides, protecting me from the weight of so many stares coming from the people stood by lockers. The halls were all gum, shiny floors and cheery campaign posters plastered to lockers. I instantly regretted my decision. I wanted to run, run far away and go hide under the nearest rock.

Nathan must have noticed my wide eyes and skittish expression because he nudged me lightly in the side. "You'll be fine. You have us, remember?"

I stole a quick look at Linnet. She looked like she wanted to dart away more than I did, a blush of an even deeper crimson splashing over her neck. It looked like Linnet's shyness was lethal, the combined stares making her want to faint by how she was stumbling over nothing.

When we'd all pushed through the whispers with minimal battle injures, we let out a collective sigh of relief so strong it sounded like the start of a hurricane. I would normally, if I was with Cass or Stuart, be tense and careful, but with Linnet and Nathan I felt the happiest I'd been since I moved back in with them.

Linnet bounced over to Nathan, relaxed. Well, as relaxed as you can be when you were Linnet, I guess. "You need to take me to the nurse," she announced promptly.

"And why do I need to do that?" Nathan patted Linnet's head as if she were a little puppy.

I almost smiled when she pouted and swatted his fingers away. She held up a hand like she was stopping traffic, displaying a long sliver of red on her palm. "Because you're the one who pushed me over, remember that?"

Nathan took a long look at the blood, grabbing Linnet's wrist and bringing the injured hand closer to his face. Linnet squeaked with surprise when she nearly fell into him.

"I guess I do, since I'm a gentleman," he said. He looked away from Linnet to me, now on his other side so he was in the middle. "Sorry, I guess I'll have to leave you alone. You going to be OK on your own or do you want to come, too?"

I would've felt more comfortable tagging along but I didn't want to them to think I was a baby for having no independence, even if I_ was_ damaged. I shook me head, leaning back on the cool surface of the lockers. "Go without me. I'll be fine."

I waited for them to return after they'd left, staring at a particularly bright poster on global warming. I didn't notice a shadow descend until the presence casting it blocked my view.

"Lucy?"

I started, made a noise that closely resembled one of a strangled cat. I tried to dodge whatever it was that I'd heard but hit something hard and warm, bounced back and hit another at my other side, all the while my heart hammering dangerously fast.

"Are you OK?"

Once my heart had stopped skipping beats, I looked up, and almost swooned when my eyes connected with another pair. I was instantly trying to categorise them – where they the colour of a choppy river in the sun? The ocean? Or where they more green than blue – a grassy meadow?

"Hi," I stammered and immediately cursed myself for sounding so foolish and for not answering his question.

"Hey." The deep voice was slow, dangerous, the whiskey tones rumbling in his chest. A teasing smirk lifted up the corner of his lips. I suppressed a shiver and watched as a blond lock tumbled over his forehead.

"I'm Lucy," I said.

I finally realised that it was his arms either side of my head, supporting his full weight. They were the warm things I'd bounced off. I blushed at the thought of touching them and hit myself. I sounded like a pathetic little girl.

He leaned in closer until he was all I could see, imprisoned by his body. "I know," he said, smiling as if he was amused.

I decided that his eyes were defiantly the colour of the ocean. "Well, I don't know who you are."

"You don't? … So the rumours are true."

"You shouldn't listen to rumours," I said. "They're mostly lies."

"This one wasn't."

"Still."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile extended. "I'm Julian."

Hello, Julian." I raised an eyebrow. "So how do you know me?"

He was opening his mouth to reply when a short girl wearing glasses stuck her head over his shoulder, on tip-toes by how she was teetering. Her hair was dyed copper, more brown than ginger, stopping just after her shoulders. I felt like growling at her which was stupid because I didn't even know her. Like most people, actually.

"Nathan and Linnet have been looking for you," she said. She glanced at Julian who still hadn't moved, and then at me, a weird look crossing her face. "Erm, are you coming?"

"Yes!" I blurted.

When Julian saw I was moving, he pushed away from me, turned on his heel and walked away without a word. I stared after him.

"Why were you with Julian, Lucy?" Her voice was low.

I looked at her, staring down because I was a lot taller than her. I couldn't help the interest that sparked inside of me. If I was to ask this girl about Julian, I could get some information on him. But, I realised, only if she knew him.

"You know Julian?" I tried to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible so she would think I was asking innocently.

She started to walk. I followed because I didn't want to miss her answer, and because I wanted to meet my friends again. "Everybody knows him. He's Mr. Popular."

"He knew who I was. How?"

She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Nathan and Linnet are there." She inclined her head to a group of lockers beside a door. Nathan and Linnet were huddled beside it, Nathan talking animatedly about something as Linnet stared back at him.

"Thanks, but…"

Nathan and Linnet saw me, Nathan closing his mouth so he could trot over to her, Linnet in tow. I smiled at them but looked around for the girl.

She was already down at the opposite end of the hallway, shooting me worried looks, identical to the ones wore by her friends.

Nathan and Linnet started to chat again. I didn't join in, Julian's encounter to fresh in my mind.

He stayed on my mind all day.

**I'm so sorry this has took me so long to write. I was having a little break from Fanfiction. It would've gone on longer but I felt really bad for not updating. **

**The person that interrupted Lucy and Julian is actually my friend Katie. She requested a part in my story and so there she was. She's not going to read it because she doesn't know the name of the story but, yeah, it's the thought that counts, I guess. **

**So what do you think about Lucy and Julian, then? I've had a few requests by reviewers to have him in there and I liked them so there he was. I hope my description of him was OK. There wasn't an actual description of him in the book so I had to improvise.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism are welcomed. **


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